Finding Sara
by A Traveler
Summary: Michael and Lincoln have escaped from Fox River. Now Michael has a new mission.
1. Chapter 1

Author's note: It's been a while since I've written. I loved Alias, and after the show fizzled I went through mourning! But now a new show has captured my imagination…Prison Break! This is my first fic in this new genre. I hope you enjoy this possible after-the-escape scenario. (Michael and Sara adventure/romance in three chapters.)

Sara Tancredi unlocked the door to her apartment and slipped inside, closing it behind her with desperate relief. She tossed her purse absentmindedly onto the desk in the foyer and kicked off her shoes. With a nervous look through the transom glass to make sure she hadn't been followed, she limped wearily into her living room and fell into the easy chair by the fireplace. Closing her eyes, she sighed deeply.

Ever since the escape, she'd been frightened nearly out of her mind. Five of the seven prisoners who had been reported missing were men she had feared even when they were behind bars; now they were freely roaming the countryside. She had been mentally reviewing every moment she'd spent with them. She had been alone with all of them at one time or another in the infirmary while performing her duties as prison doctor. Had they ever been close enough to her purse or her desk to see the address on her license? Her checkbook? A stray letter? Sara shuddered and restlessly rose from the chair to check her front door locks. She knew she was being paranoid, but after the past week's events she couldn't stop herself.

The other two escaped prisoners were men who, if she could admit it to herself, she would sorely miss. The two brothers, one of them on death row, had captured her attention from the minute she'd met them. They were different. She found herself believing in them in spite of every instinct she'd carefully cultivated in her soul to protect herself from the trickery they appeared to practice. How many times had she caught Michael in a lie? How many times had he refused to answer a direct question? And Lincoln, his brother- she'd seen Lincoln committing murder on videotape and still she could not bring herself to believe it.

Sara began to pace the small, dark foyer of her apartment, unable to relax or stop the thoughts swirling in her mind, begging for answers. The last time she'd seen Michael had been almost a week ago, the night before the escape. Once again, the scene popped uninvited into her mind. 

He'd come to the infirmary for his shot. The routine was second nature to them both; Michael jumped agilely onto the edge of the exam table and waited with that infuriating, totally gorgeous grin on his full lips. She brought the testing equipment and insulin to him on a tray. With deliberate professionalism and a forced air of detachment, she had begun swabbing his finger for the required blood test when he had begun talking in a low voice, almost a whisper.

"Sara, I need to tell you the truth." She froze and fastened her full attention on him. Intuitively she knew that this was the truth she'd been waiting to learn ever since she'd met him. Something akin to pain gripped her stomach and clutched at her heart.

"Lincoln and I, and others, are breaking out of here tomorrow night." 

His look was incredible. Half fright, half audacious dare, it was both horrible and beautiful. Michael had just laid it all on the line. He was offering her everything: his trust, himself, his brother's future, even their lives. He sat waiting, not breathing, for her response.

Sara slowly sat down next to him on the gurney, very close to his side, and put a hand on his knee. She felt the bunched muscles under her fingers relax as the knowledge that she was still with him, still on his side, seeped into his consciousness.

"I don't want to know the details. But I'm afraid for you. They'll kill you all when you try. It can't be done."

"Yes, it can. Please, don't worry. Sara, the only reason I'm here is to break out my brother before he is executed. He's everything. He can't die. I won't let it happen. There's more, though, and I don't think you're going to like it."

"Dr. Tancredi, can we get this line moving please?" boomed out the voice of Sara's very efficient nurse who was suddenly standing in the doorway. Sara and Michael jumped apart and Sara fumbled with the syringe holding his insulin.

"I have so much to explain to you. I'll get in touch with you. Remember the corner of Rose and Jackson, at 5 P.M. Sara. Remember." 

Within a few seconds, Michael was gone.

Of course Sara remembered. How could she forget? But that had been days ago. She got ready for bed and climbed in under the covers, willing herself to feel sleepy. But as she lay in bed wide awake, she realized it was going to be another long night.

The next day, and the next, followed the predictable pattern she had grown so accustomed to, with the exception of the continued fear she felt outside the prison walls. As she waited for something, anything, to happen, she had time to go over every second she'd ever spent with Michael Scofield. Sara came to two conclusions.

One, that he'd lied to her, and used her, a lot. She wasn't sure what to do with that.

"He's everything," Michael had blurted out in the infirmary that day. The only thing that mattered to Michael Scofield, she saw it now, was his mission to bust his brother out of jail. In his self-sacrificing world, it was his everything. She'd been a willing, albeit unaware, part of his master plan.

Two, that in spite of how he had apparently used her, in spite of how she couldn't be of any consequence to him, she was desperate to see him again. The thought of him being out of her life forever was too painful to face.

Hope remained regardless of the case against it. There were the little things that didn't fit his prime objective and made her wonder if he could, possibly, care for her in spite of the damning evidence against such sentiment. He'd given her sweet hand-made gifts; he'd asked her penetrating questions about herself and her life that nobody else had ever cared to ask. Maybe he was just really good at schmoozing her, but she just couldn't quite believe that all those soulful looks, all those whispered comments had been contrived. She'd patched up too many of his 'accidental' injuries not to have noticed how completely he'd leaned on her. He'd put himself at risk and come to rescue her during the riots. It all added up to something more than a man bent simply on springing his brother.

He had said he wanted to explain things to her. Was that just a way to soften the blow? He hadn't called yet, and it had been two weeks now. Why would he say that? And what did the corner of Rose and Jackson at 5 P.M. have to do with anything?

The looks, those intense blue eyes that made her feel weak- did he charm every female that came his way or was she right in thinking he'd been looking at her in particular- really looking? 

Why couldn't she forget him? How she wished she could forget him! Sara looked up at the clock. It was quitting time, finally. She glanced over at the nurse's desk and stood up.

"I'm out of here," she announced tiredly.

"You sure you're okay? You seem burned out," the nurse responded. The woman reached for her own purse so the two could walk out to their cars together like they always did.

"I'm tired," Sara admitted, "after everything that's happened these last few weeks."

"You miss him," Katie observed.

"No! Well, yeah, I suppose. I'm just worried about him, that's all," Sara admitted quietly to her friend. They both had no illusions as to who they were talking about.

"Me too," the nurse admitted. "He had a way of growing on a person." Katie pointed at her car.

"There's me. See you Monday." 

Sara nodded and waved goodbye. The drive home seemed long and grey. Sara decided to stop in front of her favorite coffee place to cheer herself with a latte. It only took a few minutes to get the hot drink and return to her car at the curb, but Sara instantly noticed the crumpled piece of paper under the windshield which hadn't been there when she'd entered the coffee shop. Hope, and its companion, worry, instantly engulfed her as she snatched the tiny rag from its spot.

It said "Tuesday."

Sara looked frantically up and down the busy street for anyone who might have left the note. They had to be close by. But she saw nothing out of the ordinary. Eventually giving up, she climbed into her car and drove home, unsatisfied, unsettled, and yet filled with irrepressible giddiness, at this new twist. 

Tomorrow was Tuesday. 


	2. Chapter 2

The clock on the cement wall in the infirmary finally said 4:35. Sara was out the door as soon as her last patient was escorted back to his cell. She almost skipped to her car. In spite of the heavy clouds threatening rain hanging low in the sky, Sara felt as light as a helium balloon. She imagined that if she did break into skip, her feet might actually leave the ground.

She pulled up to the corner of Rose and Jackson in the center of the city at 5:05. Late. The traffic had been nastier than usual. She could feel the muscles in her neck tightening like a screw as she searched for an open parking meter. Finally, a block and a half away from the mysterious appointed corner, she found a spot and zipped in.

The meter was jammed. Sara groaned aloud as she tried to free the quarter someone else had abandoned in the slot. She thought about just leaving the car there for a few minutes while she ran to the corner, but a cop was parked in the next intersection. She glanced at the cop, then back at her meter. The red word 'Violation' loomed prominently. She kicked at it childishly and felt tears stinging the back of her eyelids. 

The hair on the back of her neck suddenly stood on end and she knew immediately he was there, watching. She looked up to find his eyes fastened on her from across the street, a playful smile lighting up his face. She returned the smile with helpless devotion, but then remembered the police car that sat so closely by. Sara nodded her head in the direction of the cop, and then slowly slid back into her car behind the driver's wheel. She looked across the street to Michael.

That was all the encouragement he needed. He crossed the street and slipped into the passenger seat so quickly she barely had time to register that they were at long last together again.

"I'm going to get us away from here, I'm thinking," she said without preamble. Sara pulled out of the spot and drove away at a sedate pace, breathing easier when it became apparent they had not attracted the officer's attention. Soon they were several blocks away. Sara found herself driving in large, lazy circles around the city center.

"Sara, you look…amazing," Michael breathed in that throaty way that always fogged up her brain. She glanced over at him, smiling self-consciously, as she drove. 

"Are you okay, Michael? You weren't injured in the escape, were you?"

"No, doc, I'm fine. I've missed you, Sara."

"Where are you staying?"

"Probably not a good idea to discuss that."

"More secrets, Michael?" Michael noted with a sinking heart that Sara sounded hurt already.

"I'm sorry. I don't want to keep anything from you, not ever again. But I'm not alone. Lincoln and Veronica are with me. We have an agreement not to say anything to anyone about our location. Sara, can we go somewhere and talk?"

"My apartment might be under surveillance. It wasn't a secret that you and I were… closer than we should have been."

"How about we pick up some takeout and go somewhere outside the city? I really want a chance to explain things, Sara. I hated myself every time I lied to you. There's so much I want to tell you."

"Why, Michael? There's nothing more I can do for you, you must know that by now." He didn't miss the cynicism in her response, and he worried that he might lose her.

"I'm not looking for anything from you, except your understanding. And your company," he added wistfully. She smiled at him and his heart untwisted a little. He had a new mission, now that Linc was safe, and the object of that mission was sitting next to him. 

Less than an hour later, the two of them were perched on a rock in a local park, eating spring rolls and sesame chicken in great hungry mouthfuls. Michael couldn't keep his eyes off the red-haired woman beside him. 

"You're more beautiful than I remember," he said somewhat incoherently as he chewed a mouthful of chicken.

"Well, you're just as much of a flatterer," Sara teased him. The brilliant grin she wore belied her accusation. "When are you going to tell me everything?"

Michael put down his fork and container and swallowed with a huge gulp. For a second or two he looked at her, and she was sure he was about to start talking, when a strange light bloomed in his eyes. In one lightning quick movement, he was suddenly right there. He reverently cupped her cheeks with graceful fingers and his lips crashed onto hers with uncontained passion. Sara couldn't help but respond. She curled her hands around the back of his neck and pulled him into an eager embrace. Only gradually did they part, both reluctant to give up the others' mouth. Breathing heavily, Michael leaned his forehead against Sara's as if it was the only thing holding him upright.

"I swear, I'm going to tell you whatever you want to know. This was not an attempt to distract you. I promise. You have to believe me. I just couldn't… I had to…"

"I know," she agreed dreamily.

"Amazing," he whispered against her lips. He eventually managed to pull himself back to a safer distance even though every pore in his body was screaming with disappointment. Sara had also scraped herself together and was now sitting cross-legged on the rock, her arms hugging herself as if to contain her need, watching him with gentle adoration.

"Michael, I want to hear what you have to say. But before you say anything, know this. I'm already on your team. I'm confused, and I have questions, but I'm no longer hurt. Not by you. I know you would never consciously hurt me."

Tears sprang into his eyes and Sara felt her own tears spring forth in response.

"Thank you for believing in me," he choked out. "Thank you."

It was well into the dark hours of the morning and much had been said by the time the two decided to call it a night. Sara tried not to yawn, but gaped in spite of her resolve. Michael helped her up and wrapped his arms around her to keep her warm as they walked with reluctant steps to the car.

"Can you drop me off at the corner?" Michael asked, rubbing her arms with his hands and standing as close to her as he could. "I left my car there."

"Okay… when will I see you again?" She asked plaintively.

"Soon, I promise. I don't think I can go long without seeing you again." He pulled her into an unhurried hug, both savoring their last few precious minutes together.

It was almost dawn when Sara dropped him off. She sat and watched him walk away until he reached his car. Her heart became heavier with each step he took away from her. With a sigh, she turned the key in the ignition and drove off slowly, reluctantly, wondering how long she would have to live on the day's memories before they could see each other again.

As she rounded the corner and left the city center, a dark sedan moved in behind her, just far enough behind that she wouldn't notice. She didn't. She didn't know she was being followed to her apartment in the dark of night. 


	3. Chapter 3

Ch 3 Finding Sara

Sara was aglow with amorous thoughts from the long night spent in the company of the man she loved. He'd explained everything. She knew he had no reason to do so… no reason other than to be true to her. She did love him, she knew that now. He was as perfect as her memory had been telling her he was for all these lonely days. With a hazy glance around her, she fumbled wearily for her house key and finally managed to open the door and let herself in.

As was her habit, she looked around suspiciously before slipping inside the door and turning to shove it closed and latch the various locks. Before the door fully closed, however, a man roughly thrust his foot through the door jamb. Sara screamed. The man had his heavy palm plastered cruelly across her nose and mouth within seconds, effectively silencing her. Now he did close the door all the way and dragged a fighting yet losing Sara fully inside. She tried to bite his hand and he hit her hard. Stars flew in front of her line of vision, but not before she identified her assailant. John Abruzzi. He hit her again and the world went black.

Sara came to in her own bedroom. For the first minute or two she sleepily lay on her coverlet, relishing the dawn of the new day, groggily wondering if she had time to make a pot of coffee before reporting to work. Then, as consciousness waxed more fully, the frightful events of the predawn hours rushed into her mind like a dam breaking. It was then that she realized her arms and legs were tied to the four posters of the bed. With a frightened gasp, she struggled against the bonds, but they held fast and were painfully tight.

Abruzzi chose that moment to enter the room and stand at the foot of her bed, gloating at his now trembling captive. He stared at her with evil eyes.

"Well, well, doc," he sneered. "I guess you can be the first to know. I'm backslidden." He laughed with a croak, enjoying the look of horror and disgust on Sara's features. 

"But don't worry," he said in a malicious drawl. "I ain't gonna mess with you. I just need you to smoke out your boyfriend. He done me wrong. He's gonna pay." Abruzzi laughed a horrible laugh and sat down on the bed next to her. Sara tried to move as far away form him as her limitations allowed.

"He didn't do anything to you!" Sara cried out angrily. She yanked ineffectually at her ropes, giving a cry when the rough bonds bit into her wrists.

"Don't hurt your little self," Abruzzi cautioned sardonically. "Maybe you don't know your loverboy as well as you think. He lied to you, to me, to everyone."

"You're a liar," Sara sobbed.

"Sure I am. But I admit it. He's the worst kind of liar. Lies to the ones he loves." This last bit was said in her ear, causing Sara to shudder and jerk her head away from his foul breath.

"Leave me alone."

"Why should I? Why should I, I'm askin' myself. He's gonna be dead anyway, 'cause I'm goin' to kill him. I'm goin' to kill his brother too. So maybe I should just indulge myself a little…" 

He leaned over Sara and licked her cheek from jaw to temple in a bold, sloppy motion. She cried out. With agonizing deliberation, he reached across and played with a lock of her hair, all the while smiling dangerously into her eyes. She squeezed her eyes shut and swallowed against the bile rising in her throat.

"Now, now, what are you closing your eyes for?" He taunted, his hands lewdly running down her sides.

"Maybe what she sees is making her sick, Abruzzi," Michael's quiet but deadly voice filled the room. Abruzzi jumped clumsily off the bed, clearly out-maneuvered, and turned to face his unexpected visitors. There stood Michael, Lincoln, and Veronica, the latter two with guns trained on the kidnapper, all with murderous frowns.

"Untie her, Michael," Lincoln directed. "Veronica, tie him up with the ropes Michael gives you." Lincoln continued to train his gun directly on Abruzzi's forehead while Michael and Veronica got to work.

Michael wasted no time cutting through the ropes restraining the shaking woman on the bed and handing them to Veronica so they could be used again. Soon he had Sara free and scooped her up against him, whispering sweetly in her ear as she shuddered in his arms.

"How did you find me?" Sara asked.

"Something told me to follow you home and make sure you got in safely. When I saw what happened, I knew I couldn't take him by myself. I went and got Lincoln and Veronica and we came back as fast as we could. He didn't… hurt you, did he? I hated leaving you here," Michael whispered painfully.

"He didn't hurt me," Sara confirmed. "You did the right thing. You saved my life, Michael. And I think you may have saved all our lives. He was talking like he intended to kill us all." Once again Michael drew her against him securely and buried his face in her neck. With a great sigh, he breathed out his relief against her still trembling frame.

"Time to go," Lincoln announced curtly. "Veronica is about to place a call to the police. We'll leave Abruzzi here to be found, all tied up like a Christmas present."

"You're dead!" Abruzzi mumbled against the gag around his mouth, his face purple with rage. "Dead!"

"And you're going back to Fox River," Michael coolly informed him.

"Let's go." Lincoln led the way to their car across the street. Veronica joined them a few minutes later and they were on their way.

"What do I do now?" Sara asked Michael, who sat next to her in the back seat. "What will the police think when they find him in my apartment?"

"What do you want to do?" Michael questioned, picking up her hand and playing delicately with her fingers. "You could disappear with us, or you can go back."

Sara was silent. The temptation to simply disappear with Michael was strong. Her whereabouts would remain a mystery if she left now. But what kind of life would that be? Always on the run, never sure what the next day would bring. She loved him. Could she really give up her life for him?

Sara could barely breathe when the realization hit her. That was exactly what Michael had done. He'd given up his life, his reputation, and his livelihood to rescue his brother. From what he'd told her, it had been a good life. Sara's life, however, was not that kind of life. She was estranged from her family and struggling with the aftereffects of having been an addict. She worked in a prison. 

Maybe it wasn't that hard of a choice after all.

"I'm with you," she said quietly. 

Michael's eyes widened with the realization that she had chosen him.

"Really?" He asked incredulously, the beginnings of a dazzling grin twitching at his mouth.

"Really," Sara confirmed.

"Uh, you two gonna wait 'til we get to the cabin or should we raise the privacy curtain?" Veronica asked with syrupy sweetness while Lincoln laughed heartily at the sight in his rearview mirror.

There was no answer from the back seat. 


End file.
